Rotten
by sandra70
Summary: The curse of Shattered Sight has been broken... but Hook still needs to get his heart back. When and how will that happen? A few thoughts...


This is just a short drabble about the scenario we all have been thinking a lot: when and how will Hook get his heart back? I hope next week before the winter break!

_**Rotten**_

"Why on earth did you do that?" she snapped angrily.

After the curse of Shattered Sight had been broken, and Emma had finally learned from her former foster mother, the Snow Queen, what part Gold had played in all this, a few things had dawned on her. She'd started to instinctively realize that he had to have something to do with Hook's alarmingly strange appearance at the sheriff's station right before the curse hit, and with the somehow unfamiliar way his lips had felt on hers when she'd thrown herself at him in a desperate, tearful goodbye-kiss. Somehow, it hadn't felt _right_, but she hadn't been able to put her finger on it, especially because it all had happened within the range of seconds, right before the curse was expected. And only when he'd left her there with her family and friends to _"chain himself to the dock"_, as he'd said, she'd come to realize that the pain and despair on his face had gone far beyond the one she'd felt herself – suddenly, he'd been completely lacking in the optimism he always exuded. Where had his usual bravado gone, his _"You can do this"_, his _"we'll find a way"_? When he'd told her that he'd needed to see her _one more time_... he hadn't added anything reassuring and left that part completely up to her parents this time.

And suddenly, she'd understood that when he'd said _"Goodbye"_, he'd been convinced he wouldn't see her again. It had been too late to run after him, but as soon as she'd heard about Gold's infamous scheme, the pieces fell into place.

Immediately, Emma had rushed to Gold, and in the showdown that had ensued, Henry's grandfather had thrown into her face that he still could achieve his aim by taking her magic and then crushing her _"pathetic puppy's rotten heart"_ – and suddenly, she'd literally seen red, and an overwhelming rage guiding her hands and her magic had filled her with a strength she'd never felt before. When the Dark One had attempted to use that damn hat on her, all she'd been able to think of was that she was not going to let that happen – her family being torn apart again, and the love of her life murdered. Ironically enough, Gold's own advice to her from a long time ago had backfired hard right into his own face now; he'd told her that conjuring magic was_ not an intellectual endeavor _but emotion._ "You must ask yourself 'why am I doing this, who am I protecting?' Feel it!"_

And with that, suddenly the gruesome magic hat had appeared in her own right hand, and without thinking twice, she'd pointed it at him. And now the Dark One with all his powerful and dangerous magic was trapped inside.

Belle had been devastated, of course, but when Emma had told her what Gold had said, she'd just gravely nodded, wiped away her tears, and helped her look for Hook's heart. When they'd found it, Belle had pressed a hand over her mouth; despite her husband's vile words she'd been hoping that he hadn't done that unspeakable thing and ripped another human's heart out to use him as a puppet for his dirty work. But he'd done exactly that, and the sight of the pirate's heart glowing in a bright, flawless red had shocked her maybe even more.

As soon as they'd found the heart, Emma had called Regina, and her former enemy had shown up within the shortest time, giving her one of the wooden boxes she'd used herself to store away the hearts she'd taken, and providing her with valuable advice. Emma had asked her to help out with restoring it, but Regina had refused. "You will do it, Emma," she'd firmly told her, "and all the more powerful it will be when performed with True Love." She had rolled her eyes at Emma's face and then given her a push. "_Go!_" she'd snarled. "Before Captain Guyliner kills himself out of sheer despair!"

She'd rushed to the docks where she'd found him; she wasn't surprised to find him unchained. He simply sat there, obviously waiting for his death. Of course, it hadn't been necessary for him to tie himself up – not having his heart, he'd been immune to the curse and wasn't a danger for anyone, as long as his puppet master didn't order him. And then, finally, he'd told her everything, beginning from his stupid deal with Gold about getting back his hand that had led to the terrible situation of him being in the Dark One's hands, literally.

And Emma couldn't believe how easily he'd let Gold manipulate him by playing with his deepest fears and insecurities about a rest of darkness inside of him that only waited for the occasion to rise to the surface again. Of course, his hand had never been cursed – that had only been Gold's manipulation multiplying his own fears, and when he'd punched Will Scarlet it had been nothing but a self-fulfilling prophecy. She could understand that Hook's insecurities didn't need much to raise their ugly head again, because she'd been there herself. It took a lot of time and the help of people who love you to overcome one's own past and embrace, _really_ embrace the present.

But what she didn't understand was why he had demanded his hand back from Gold in the first place – and set all that catastrophe in motion. "For what purpose?!" she asked angrily.

He looked down at the floor, shuffling his feet, not being able to look her in the eyes. "I wanted to be a better man for you, Swan." His voice was lifeless. _And I failed_, he added in his mind, _I miserably failed._

"What?" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "But that's a load of crap!"

He shook his head and replied in a defeated voice: "I thought you deserved the best version of me... and then I gave you the worst." He pressed his lips together, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

Emma couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "God, you're so _stupid!_" she snapped at him in an outraged voice, and he looked at her again and blinked in confusion. She shook her head and ranted on: "I never wanted some... _version_ of you." She almost spat the word out. "I wanted you _exactly_ the way you were, I wanted you to be _yourself_!" She put her hands to her hips and quite an amount of sarcasm into her voice. "The thing you always told me I should be, remember?!"

"That's not the same!" he defended himself feebly. "I wanted to become again the man I was before I got the hook."

"Why?!" She gave him an angry push. "You were a pirate even before you got it, and I never cared! The hook doesn't define you!" She motioned vividly to his metal attachment, and he looked down at it thoughtfully. "Okay," she went on after a moment, "you got yourself one pretty catchy moniker, but having or not having it doesn't change who you are! Same as it doesn't make a difference if I wear boots and leather jacket or a dress and heels, I'm still the same person." She put her hand firmly on the leather sheath that held his hook, and he drew his eyes to hers again. "_You_'re still the same person! These are just appearances and don't define you, just like everybody else!"

He tilted his head wearily, his trademark gesture lacking its usual sass. "Well, Swan, just that I'm not like everybody else."

_God_, what a stubborn son-of-a-bitch he was! "Damn straight, you're not," Emma replied and folded her arms. "Unlike _everybody else_, you're the only one who _never_ let me down, the one who _always_ had my back, the _only_ one. That's who you are." Hook turned his eyes to hers, and for the first time since she'd found him here she saw a spark of life in his blue eyes. She could feel she was getting through to him, finally. "You are a good man, accept it," she went on more softly, and he averted his eyes again, a shadow flying over his handsome face. He really didn't believe in himself, obviously, and one thing tugged at her heart in the most painful way: _he_ was the one who had always encouraged her to trust herself and accept her inner strength – but obviously _she_ hadn't been able to do the same for him. Had she even tried hard enough? Had she ever bothered to ask herself what inner demons _he_ had to fight every day? She made a silent promise to herself to change that from now on, to show him that he mattered, and that he was worth every ounce of love she had to give.

"Why would I mind you having the hook?" she asked with urge in her voice and pointed out: "You had it _every damn time_ you saved my life. You had it when we met, you had it when we fought Pan. The Wicked Witch. The damn dairy queen." Her voice rose, and he hiked his eyes at her face and blinked. She sounded so damn reassuring. "You had it _all_ the time," she repeated. "And yet I..." He frowned when she suddenly fell silent and bit her lips, averting her eyes now. Hook just swallowed thickly and let his gaze fixed on her face, still guilt and pain in his eyes. He was convinced he'd screwed up and lost her, but her voice, her reassuring voice... he was afraid to hear what she was going to say, but yet he knew he _needed_ to hear it, needed it more than air. Emma drew a deep breath and looked at him again, leaning a little forward, as to make sure she had his full attention. Then she continued in a firm, clear voice: "And yet – I fell in love with you. _You!_ Not some illusion of who you could be."

Hook's eyes widened, and he knew if he had his heart now it would have skipped a beat. His mouth was dry as gun powder all of a sudden, and he had to moisten his lips. "You..."

"Yeah, big surprise!" she snapped, suddenly sounding upset again. "Listen, bud. You said to me I gotta trust you. Well, I still do. But that goes both ways." She shot her index finger at him like a bullet. "If we are going to make this work, you need to trust me, too."

"_We_..." he echoed in disbelief. "Are you saying, _this_... you're still in this?"

His damn puppy-eyed stare made her almost angry, and some of that anger was directed at herself. He, the damn pirate, was sensitive enough to read her and all of her fears and insecurities like an open book, and she had never noticed what low esteem he had of himself? In spite of her caring deeply for him? She rolled her eyes. "Which part exactly of _'I fell in love with you'_ didn't you understand?" she snarled.

Hook shook his head and muttered tonelessly: "You fell in love with me..."

Emma huffed. "And everybody says I'm the one with the walls."

He raised his hand as if he wanted to touch her face, but then he hesitated, not daring to; he rubbed his hand over his own mouth instead. Then he blinked and shook his head. "Emma. I don't even deserve..."

"Oh, will you stop it now and shut up already!" she interrupted furiously. He didn't finish, and she reached in the wooden box she'd been carrying with her and carefully lifted out his bright red heart; Hook flinched when he saw it; even though it was in his love's hands now and not in the Dark One's, it still felt scary to see it outside his own body. Emma lifted it right in front of his eyes so that he had to look at it. Her voice was still angry when she demanded: "Look here, Killian! See this? It's _pure_. Because it's _true_. _This_ is who you are."

His blue eyes were fixed on the heart, its rhythmic bright red glow, and somehow he couldn't believe it although he saw it. He'd never thought he'd see his heart again, let alone have a chance of getting it back unharmed. It seemed like a wonder that his Swan had managed to get it back, even after defeating the Dark One. He looked at her questioningly. "How..."

"Belle," she replied quickly, "she helped me find it."

A remorseful shadow flew over his handsome face when he thought for one moment at what the Dark One's wife had to go through at the moment, and he felt a slight pang of guilt; it seemed like, intending or not intending, he caused her to suffer again and again. Not to mention all the other victims of the Dark One's schemes that were trapped in that cursed hat now because _he_ had been too cowardly to tell his Swan the truth. Another wave of shame washed over him.

He swallowed thickly. "What about that damned hat?" he asked almost tonelessly, his eyes still glued to his own, bright red heart, safely sitting in Emma's palms. Somehow, it was a soothing feeling to know she had it in her hands. But then, she'd had it for a long time.

"It might take some time," Emma replied, "but Belle thinks she can find a way to free those who are trapped inside. Regina promised to help, too."

"Free them," Hook echoed slowly, thoughtfully. "Including... him."

Emma sighed and nodded. "Yes. Including him."

His jaw clenched, and when he looked at her again, she saw a cold fury in his eyes that made her shiver, and she got one of the rare inklings of how dangerous and lethal he could really be. "I'm going to walk past him without even looking," he said quietly, "but if I should ever be led to assume he's threatening you or your family again, I shall kill him without hesitating."

She swallowed. "I know."

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, feeling utterly devastated again. "The fairies..." he murmured.

Emma put one hand on his arm. "Killian," she soothed, "they will understand. That wasn't you. You had no choice." She lifted her other hand and showed him his heart again. "_This_ is who you are," she said again.

He slightly shook his head in disbelief and motioned his hand to the glowing red organ. "Belle once said to me it's rotten."

"She told me that," Emma nodded. "She didn't know any better then." Gently, she put her hand to his scruffy cheek, capturing his attention again. "I didn't have to see it to know," she told him softly and with a smile.

He looked at her and shook his head again. "You really do believe in me, don't you, Swan?"

She was mesmerized by the honesty and vulnerability in his amazing blue eyes, and the disbelief and wonder in them almost broke her heart. Really, had she done so little before to show him how highly she valued him? How much she trusted him? How much she... She swallowed. "Of course I believe in you!" she told him fiercely. "Killian, don't you know how much I..."

"Don't say it," he interrupted her almost harshly and raised his hand. She frowned at him, and for the first time a tentative, genuine smile curved his perfect lips. He brushed his knuckles over the wrist of her hand that carefully held his heart. "First put that back where it belongs," he demanded hoarsely, "and save me." His words almost brought her to tears, and she understood. He wanted, he _needed_ to be in full possession of his whole range of emotions when he'd hear her tell him that she loved him for the first time of many – and when he'd say it back.

She smiled and nodded. "Okay." She held up her left hand that cradled his heart and moved her right hand above it in a caressing move, but without actually touching it. A bright white light emanated from her palm and bathed the heart for a moment in its shine before fading away, leaving the organ iridescent with a faint pearly glow. He watched like mesmerized and automatically put his hand on his chest when he felt a light, barely perceptible thrum inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

A bright smile shone on her face. "I sealed it," she told him. "Regina showed me how to do it. Remember, she did it to Henry's heart after we got it back from Pan?" She raised his still faintly gleaming heart between their faces. "Nobody will ever again be able to rip it out of your body."

Hook swallowed, a weirdly dulled warmth of pride seeping through his chest. His Swan had more than embraced her magic by now, and he'd be damned if he didn't get his heart back right _now_ to make her fully understand how proud he was of her and how much he loved her, more than his own life, by far. He tried a smile again, and straightened his shoulders, puffing his chest out a little. Emma nodded, drew a deep breath and then slowly positioned the heart over his ribcage, right above its destination. She looked at him questioningly, and he nodded his head once, never taking his eyes off of hers. Then a soft pressure against his ribs, and he did neither hear nor see anything of the act itself, also he didn't really _feel_ anything when his heart slipped back into the void in his chest and settled in right where it belonged. But suddenly the world around him seemed warmer, brighter, again full of colors and sounds and scents that were not muffled, and when his momentarily fogged view cleared again and he looked into Emma's eyes, it was almost a sharp pain that cut through his chest, and for one second he thought that something had gone terribly wrong, and he expected to drop dead on the ground any moment.

But then he realized that this pain was one of the precious kind – it was the delicious kind one feels when looking at the one person one maybe _could_ live without, but never would want to. That clenching of one's heart that almost hurts, that moment of realization that one really can love somebody _so much that it hurts_. Her eyes were anxiously searching his face – it was not that she held hearts in her hands every other day, enchanting them and shoving them back into chests, especially not the heart of the man she loved. That moment, her feelings were written all over her face, and he couldn't believe that he was still alive and breathing and looking into his Swan's eyes full of warmth and love. He felt the skin around his eyes crinkle and the happy grin curve his mouth, and he just cupped the back of her head with his hand, wrapped his hooked arm around her waist and pulled her close with a little bump, and the moment her green eyes widened in surprise, his lips captured hers in a breathtaking, all-consuming kiss.

All by themselves, her arms wrapped around his trim waist, under his leather jacket, needing to feel the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, to assure herself that he was still there, that everything was right again. And the feeling of his mouth on hers, that bruising kiss, that was _him_, and it felt _right_. As passionate and desperate the last kisses they'd shared had been, they had been different from the ones before, and now she knew why. Because he hadn't had his heart. But this one now – she knew how Killian Jones kissed, and _this_ was every breathtaking, earth-shattering bit like him; his lips firm and warm, his demanding tongue, his fingers curling in her hair, changing the angle of her head to deepen the kiss, the boiling lava seeping from his veins into hers.

When their lips finally parted, they both had to steady themselves against each other, still wrapped up in each other's arms, resting front to front. "Yes..." Emma finally murmured, still a little breathless and her eyes still closed, "that's more like it. This is wholly you."

"Aye," he replied hoarsely, his voice thick and raw with emotion. "Swan, I..."

Her eyes flew open. "Shut up," she cut him off sharply, but still keeping her front touched to his. "I really feel the urge to slap you in the face for what you did." His heart, yes, his _heart_, sank a little, as he thought she was referring to him hiding the truth from her. "You thought you were going to die, we were never going to see each other again, and you would have deprived me of the chance to..." She bit her lip, overwhelmed for one moment with the horror of what actually could have happened.

"Slap me all you want, Swan," he replied almost seriously, despite the newfound lightness in his heart. She wasn't resenting him being dishonest; she was angry about an almost missed chance to finally declare her their mutual feelings. "I deserve it."

"You bet you do," she snapped and then went on, suddenly with something like angry tenderness in her voice: "But first I have to make sure you'll never feel the need for such a stupidity again." She tilted her head back a little and focused her eyes on his. He returned her stare without blinking, almost holding his breath, while he waited for her to continue. And continue she did, in a firm, clear voice. "I love you," she simply said. "Hand or hook, pirate clothes or leather jacket. Whatever you wear – you're Killian, you're a pirate, and I love you."

He raised his hand again and touched his fingertips to her cheek while her words reverberated in his head like music. Her eyes were shining at him with nothing but love and trust, her cheeks slightly flushed and her full lips curved into the tiniest smile. Carefully, barely touching her skin, he traced her lower lips with his thumb. "And I love you," he finally replied in a slightly croaky voice, "I've loved you for a long time. But I didn't say it, because I knew you weren't ready to hear it." Emma sighed and nodded a little sheepishly, averting her eyes for a second before she fixed them on his again. He tilted his head in an apologetic gesture. "And when you were ready," he went on, "I couldn't say it, because I didn't have my heart, and that just wouldn't have been _right_."

She nodded again. "I understand." Briefly, she leaned her face into his palm and added: "Well, we rectified that now."

Slowly, he felt more like his old self, his inner dashing rapscallion coming to life again. "Are you going to slap me now, Swan?" he asked cheekily and cocked his head, raising a challenging eyebrow.

Emma smirked. "Oh, I'm gonna do that like a pirate. When you least expect it." He laughed, actually _laughed_, and it was a wonderfully carefree, throaty sound that bubbled up from deep within his chest and made her toes curl in the most pleasant way. She took a little step back, out of his embrace, but let her right hand rest at his waist. "Come on," she finally said, "let's go find the others. Everyone's been worrying about you."

Hook's eyebrows quirked doubtfully. "About me?" he echoed.

She grinned. "Of course. You're everybody's favorite pirate by now."

He scratched behind his ear and looked away for a moment with his embarrassed little smile, moistening his lips. "Important is that I'm yours," he replied when his eyes darted to hers again.

Emma nodded. "You are," she simply answered and stepped to his side, letting her right arm slip around his waist, her fingers resting on his belt at his right hip. "And I want everybody to see it."

She smiled up at him, and he still couldn't believe his luck, couldn't believe that he really was getting a second chance: he was alive, he had his heart back, and his Swan had just not only confessed that she loved him but also that she wanted him exactly as he was and didn't mind the whole world knowing. The fine laugh lines around his ocean blue eyes deepened a little, and his lips curved into the tiniest smile while his left arm slowly, carefully slid up her back, resting his hook very lightly against her shoulder blade.

Without taking her eyes off him – she had promised that once, but had to admit that she'd slacked a little, but she fully intended to live up to that promise from now on – Emma reached behind her shoulder with her left hand and grabbed the leather sheath that held his hook. She firmly pulled it up and placed it on her shoulder. "Put it right here," she told him and grinned again when he didn't show any resistance. "That's a good pirate." Her green eyes grew a little darker and more serious, although she was still smiling at him. "Let me hold it." She curled her fingers around his hook.

Killian had to swallow twice, so dry was his throat. She would never cease to surprise him. He scratched behind his ear again. "I see what you're doing there, Swan," he finally said with deliberate nonchalance in his voice, to cover up that he was dangerously close to the verge of being overwhelmed.

Emma rolled her eyes and started to walk away from the dock, firmly pulling him with her. "Shut up, Hook," she told him.

For once, he did as he was told; only after he'd brushed a kiss to her temple and answered her, though.

"As you wish."


End file.
